There Is Only The Battle
by Shutterbug5269
Summary: "There are no victories, there is only the battle. The best you can hope for is to find your spot." Another AU look at Castle, rearranged. Kate lost her shield her first year as a detective, Can Detective Lieutenant Richard Castle earn her trust enough to help solve the case of her shooting? My Entry for the 2014 #CastleFicathon. Now with amazing new cover art by @Dtrekker
1. Prologue

**Chapter One:**  
Prologue

* * *

_"There are no victories, there is only the battle,  
the best that you can hope for is to find your spot"  
Roy Montgomery  
_

* * *

July 22nd 2011

Detective Lieutenant Richard Castle stepped off the elevator and into the 12th Precinct squad room for the first time since late May, to take charge of the Homicide division as lead detective. He had only recently been promoted to Lieutenant and the last time he had been here, he had been the primary on the shooting of former detective Katherine Beckett. He hadn't been to the funeral and hadn't known Captain Montgomery personally, only by reputation. He'd been with the 17th Precinct then.

Inexplicably, six years before, she had been granted a full pension after only four years with the department, near the end of her first year as the youngest female detective in NYPD history. Her clearance rate had been impressive for rookie detective, yet she had been forced out. Why?

During the course of his investigation, he had detected a heightened level of animosity between Beckett and Detective Javier Esposito, his predecessor as lead detective. Bad blood that went back to her forced "retirement" back in 2005 and had only gotten worse in the years between then and Montgomery's shooting.

Animosity that had stemmed from allegations she had leveled against Captain Montgomery shortly before before her career had hit the skids. Any other detective, but himself would have assumed that this was the root cause of her downward spiral, but curiously he could find nothing to document that Montgomery had ever filed a report or censured her for it. Only a sworn statement from Detective Javier Esposito made years after the fact.

There was a story behind all of this, Lieutenant Castle was certain of it, a chain of events that would make this whole sordid affair make sense. The portion of his psyche that had once desired to be a writer was sure of it. Such "not-so-voluntary" retirements were rarely made in a vacuum. Something must have happened. Something either the department, or somebody seriously high up in the city hall food chain, had wanted kept quiet and out of the public record. The kind of record a departmental hearing would have brought out into the light of day.

According to the background check he'd had done on her, Beckett's former training officer Mike Royce had helped her get a PI license, certification as a bail enforcement agent, and a concealed carry permit for both a Sig Sauer P-229 and and a Glock 26. Though she had not long afterward had recently been signed to a second three book deal with Black Pawn Publishing as a murder mystery novelist, billing her as the "Mistress of the Macabre."

Alexis was a fan, and thanks to his mother's connections, she never missed a book signing or launch party. She had been inconsolable for days when she'd found out about Beckett's shooting, and had even skipped school to show up at his precinct to nose around for information. Rick had had a uniform drive her back to school.

He had started to read her books, too, as a way to stay connected with his daughter's life, but secretly he found he liked them. She had obviously taken her time to do her research. Her primary heroine, Rachel McCord seemed believable as an NYPD homicide detective, though he thought her books were a little too cerebral. Too trapped in the cases and lacking the personal touches that would make McCord more relatable. Beckett's books could use a character to challenge McCord personally, draw her out of the dark places she seemed to inhabit.

But what did he know? He was a former Marine Force Recon sniper-turned homicide detective, not a writer or a literary critic. He took down bad guys for a living, had been for much longer than Kate Beckett had been a cop.

As a matter of fact, there was very little actual documentation of the sequence of events leading to her being "offered" early retirement. Even her service jacket was clean. Everything seemed to have been sanitized. Rick had been a Spec. Warfare operator. He knew a whitewash when he saw one.

He had been the next detective in the rotation when the call had come through about the shooting at Forest Lawn Cemetery. That former Detective Third Class Katherine Beckett had been shot by a sniper as she paid her respects to the Montgomery family, shortly after being slapped in the face by Evelyn Montgomery.

On a slow news cycle, the shooting of a famous, best selling author at a police funeral had hit the media like a firestorm, compounded by speculation that she had been forced out of the department under a cloud. The possibility of media scrutiny had been among the many factors for his captain (who had been at the funeral) personally assigning the case to him. One of his last before the results of his Lieutenant's exam came through. Something the NYPD brass had been quick to jump on, informing the media that a high ranking detective was on the case, which had been all over the news for weeks.

The physical evidence had been sketchy at best. All they had was an anomalous DNA sample, a Knight's Armament SR-25 sniper rifle and pieces of a Guile suit. Whomever her shooter had been, he was in the wind and hadn't resurfaced to finish the job.

A single .308 Lapua round would have finished the job. Kate Beckett _should_ have been dead, her heart reduced to so much hamburger. From her wound pattern, however, she had likely been hit with a frangible round which had splintered on impact. Her shooting was shaping up to be more of a warning to Kate Beckett than a full on assassination attempt with every piece of information he uncovered.

He had tried twice to interview Beckett, during her recovery at Presbyterian, both times she had claimed to have no memory of anything after Montgomery's wife had slapped her. He could tell from her body language that she was hiding something, holding something back, but her father, a corporate lawyer from uptown had intervened before he could call her on it.

He left his card with both of them and walked out. Three hours later she had checked out against medical advice and disappeared. He'd only found out she'd come up for air when her third book had come out. By then, the case had grown cold. Her case may have hit the back burner, but he was tenacious, and had no intention of letting it go. He'd keep looking into it until he found the guy.

Which is what brought him here today. The new Captain of the 12th Precinct, Victoria Gates had been impressed with his work on the Beckett shooting. He hadn't let the woman's bad reputation in the department effect his judgment. Treated her like any other victim of a violent crime. He had been professional and tenacious, but there just wasn't enough evidence to work with, and the shooter had faded like a ghost. When he had received his lieutenant's badge and the bar on his collar, Gates had lobbied for him to be transferred to her command.

She had been forced to demote the former lead detective of her homicide squad, Javier Esposito for insubordination that past summer. Not surprisingly, his partner Kevin Ryan had refused the position out of loyalty. As a Marine, he could respect that.

When Ms. Beckett had pulled her disappearing act, Esposito and his partner had tracked her down and had, without authorization attempted to compel her to come back to the city for questioning. By all indications causing her to have a panic attack. Her father had filed a formal complaint and Gates had been forced to suspend Esposito for a week for abuse of authority, conduct unbecoming, and harassment and placed a formal reprimand in both of their service jackets. A restraining order was also filed, requiring them both to remain at least twenty five miles from the Beckett family cabin in the Adirondack Park.

He wasn't sure he liked the idea of working for a former IAB detective. From what he'd been able to determine, the woman had been pretty fair, if a little tenacious. But, there was still a stigma from having been with the rat squad for most of her career. He would have to wait and see what kind of Boss she would be.


	2. Tentative Beginning

**Chapter Two  
Tentative Beginning**

* * *

"_We speak for the dead. That's the job.  
We are all they've got once the wicked rob them of their voices.  
We owe them that. But we don't owe them our lives."  
_Roy Montgomery

* * *

_Previously_

_She had been forced to demote the former lead detective of her homicide squad, Javier Esposito for insubordination that past summer. Not surprisingly, his partner Kevin Ryan had refused the position out of loyalty. As a Marine, he could respect that._

_When Ms. Beckett had pulled her disappearing act, Esposito and his partner had tracked her down and had, without authorization attempted to compel her to come back to the city for questioning. By all indications causing her to have a panic attack. Her father had filed a formal complaint and Gates had been forced to suspend Esposito for a week for abuse of authority, conduct unbecoming, and harassment and placed a formal reprimand in both of their service jackets. A restraining order was also filed, requiring them both to remain at least twenty five miles from the Beckett family cabin in the Adirondack Park._

_He wasn't sure he liked the idea of working for a former IAB detective. From what he'd been able to determine, the woman had been pretty fair, if a little tenacious. But, there was still a stigma from having been with the rat squad for most of her career. He would have to wait and see what kind of Boss she would be._

* * *

Lieutenant Rick Castle, dressed in his formal dress blue NYPD uniform, tentatively stepped out of his personal vehicle, a Chevy Suburban and waited for Alexis to step out of the passenger side. Bbefore looking up the private driveway at the Beckett family cabin in the Adirondacks. He hadn't told anyone at the precinct he was coming, but Mr. Chambers at the local bait shop had told him that Jim Beckett was still in town and had bought enough groceries for two people to last for another six weeks. He'd been wary when Castle had flashed his badge. If he and Alexis hadn't been a fixture up here for years, the man would have sent him packing. They would know he was coming anyway.

His mother had gotten him his cabin in the Adirondacks the summer after he had transferred from the LAPD to the NYPD and moved into her loft on Broome Street. She had wanted him to have someplace where he could get away from the city, she had told him, where he and his daughter could connect, especially after the messy divorce from Meredith. The two of them had since fished, camped around and canoed nearly every lake, stream and hiking trail from Thendara to Lake Placid.

Though he had never had occasion to run into Jim Beckett up here before Kate's shooting, he had heard of him. Heard about the tragedy that had befallen their family when Jim's wife had been killed in a mugging gone wrong. Johanna Beckett had cross-examined him once on the stand. She had been a force of nature in the courtroom, not needing to accuse him of wrongdoing to advocate for her client. He'd respected her.

As a matter of fact, Captain Gates believed he was on such a camping trip with his daughter, which in fact he was. Alexis had perked up at the thought of a camping trip, as his work schedule rarely afforded them the opportunity to spend a lot of quality time together. Usually they spent it at the loft playing laser tag, or watching the zombie movies that he could not quite understand Alexis' fascination with.

His mother had tried, God bless her, to get Alexis interested in more traditionally _"girly"_ things, but it had never seemed to take. She idolized her father, the soldier-turned-cop who hunted down the bad guys and kept the world safe from monsters since she was old enough to walk. She had done her civics class at age fourteen in the property room of his precinct and to this day, The 17th still had the best organized one of any in the department.

Though he dreaded it, Richard Castle knew that his daughter longed to follow in his footsteps into law enforcement. He knew that forbidding it would merely make her dig her heels in even deeper, but he hoped he could channel it into a different direction. He had been to far too many police funerals on both coasts to want such a dangerous life for her.

As soon as his transfer to the 12th had been finalized, he had introduced his daughter to Lanie Parish over at OCME. He'd heard the scuttlebutt around the precinct, that she and Detective Esposito were something of an item, and it was probably a bad idea, but the life of a Medical Examiner was a lot less dangerous than that of a cop and much more of a challenge for his daughter's fierce intellect.

Dr. Parish had been wary at first - unsure about the daughter of the man who had '_taken her man's job' - _but after one day with Alexis the saucy medical examiner had fallen in love with her, just like everybody did. Lanie had even dressed Esposito down for badmouthing him in front of her and kicking him out of the morgue.

He was happy that his little girl had not taken after her mother to become a flighty, self- absorbed party girl and proud of her for wanting to contribute something to society. He would have been damned proud of her even if she had wanted to be a Broadway actress like her grandmother; he just wanted her to see that she didn't need to put her life on the line like he did in order to make a difference.

When he'd told her what he had planned when they came out here she had insisted on coming along. There were definitely days that he had come to regret his decision to never lie to his daughter, this being one of them.

He had tried to explain that this was police business but she would have none of it, pointing out that if this was official business, he would not be going behind his captain's back on his own time. The die had been cast when he'd gone out to the Suburban to find her in the passenger seat holding out a travel cup of coffee for him when he got in, and a basket of homemade muffins in her lap.

"I'm not going to get rid of you, am I?" He'd asked, with only a slight edge of mock annoyance in his voice.

"Not in this lifetime, dad."

He'd made her promise, made her pinky swear, (one of the few teenage-girly things that had seemed to take with her) that she would keep the fan-girl flailing to a minimum and let him do the talking. This was about apologizing for Detective Esposito's behavior and hopefully securing her cooperation with his investigation into who had tried to kill her. Not a private meet-and-greet with her favorite author.

He could sense her growing excitement though as they nearred the turnoff to the Beckett cabin. She was practically bouncing in her seat. He doubted she was prepared to see her favorite author as a shooting victim, something he'd hoped to shield his daughter from.

When he'd gotten out of the suburban, he was unsurprised to see Jim Beckett rise from his seat on the porch of the cabin, the man's face a mask of caution, even though there was some hope in his eyes too. Castle knew he'd had no reason to trust the NYPD up until this point, and Javier Esposito had only been partially to blame for that. The man who'd shot his daughter two months ago was still out there somewhere. Castle knew that that was on his shoulders.

"If Bobby Chambers hadn't personally vouched for you, I would have had the troopers waiting with me." the elder Beckett said by way of greeting.

Rick walked up to the porch, Alexis partially hiding behind him, suddenly shy, until they were standing at the bottom step of the porch. Rick snapped to full attention, just like the Marines had taught him, and looked the man in the eye.

"Before I say anything else," Rick began, "I would like to personally apologize to you and your daughter, on behalf of the 12th Precinct, for Detective Esposito's actions. He was not acting under mine, nor anyone else's authority when he came up here. As a matter of fact, he has since been officially censured for interfering in my investigation into your daughter's shooting. He's been demoted to Detective second class and I have since replaced him as lead detective at the 12th Precinct."

Before Rick knew what was going on, Kate had appeared at the door, a look of anguish on her face.

"Thank you for not taking his badge, Detective Castle," Kate whispered, "I know you could have if you'd wanted to press the issue. He was my partner for nearly a year; the job is all he has left."

Rick was a little shocked, to say the least. He had expected venom from her, considering what Esposito had put her through last month, not gratitude for letting him keep his job, something he'd seriously considered. The man had set his investigation back to square one over his senseless personal vendetta. He could tell that Kate and her father had agreed to disagree on this issue. He couldn't say he would be different if it was Alexis.

The only thing Esposito had seemed to be contrite about at the time was screwing up his case. Castle knew there would be some tension in the precinct when Esposito came back. Ryan was already freezing him out, even though they were temporarily paired up while his partner was on suspension, and likely would be until Esposito was done riding a desk before he got his gun back. Gates wasn't cutting him an inch of slack. The brass at 1PP wanted their pound of flesh from the man, and she was making sure they got it.

He sensed a sparring match or two in the exercise room to sort this out. Just like they'd unofficially used the training circle in the corps. Settle it in the ring to it wouldn't find its way onto the street. Cops had gotten killed for less.

"I came, Ms. Beckett, because I need your help. I think Captain Montgomery's death and your shooting are connected, but I can't prove it. I'm being stonewalled."

"I'm sorry, Detective...I can't...I just can't," Kate whispered before disappearing from the doorway like a ghost.

Castle took a step toward the door, only to be stopped by a gentle hand at his chest. Jim had softened a bit toward him in the few minutes of the exchange between himself and Kate. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere by being pushy. A single phone call to the precinct and he'd be in the same boat as Esposito, he knew that, so he respected the boundary.

Rick took out one of his business cards from the precinct and wrote on the back of it.

"This is the address and phone number for my cabin up here, and my personal cell. My daughter and I will be here for the next week. Let me know if she changes her mind. Please, I want to get the people who did this, Mr. Beckett, and from one father to another, I know you do too."

James Beckett smiled weakly at him and accepted the basket of muffins from Alexis with true noblesse oblige, finding a warm smile for his daughter's thoughtfulness. It made Castle's heart melt the way Alexis could get people to warm toward her. She had a big heart and a gentle soul, and it showed.

Before Rick and Alexis turned back toward the Suburban, Jim placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded toward the house.

"Thank you Lieutenant Castle, I'll talk to her. I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

Rick took his hand and shook it. "Thank you, Mr. Beckett. I know this isn't easy, for her or for you, but I do want her to be safe; for this to be over. I've been where she is."

"Thank you, son. That somebody actually gives a damn about Katie means a lot to me."

* * *

Rick spent the rest of the week fishing, hiking and spending time with Alexis, but they rarely strayed far from the cabin. He still held out the slim hope that Kate Beckett would take him up on his offer. Hope that grew more and more slim with each passing day there was no word or sign of her.

They had spent the better part of the day packing their summer things and putting them in the shed, stocking the woodshed for their return the week leading up to New Years Eve. When there was a knock on the door.

When he opened it, Kate Beckett stood alone on the front porch, framed by the screen door, uncertainty painted on her wan, pretty face.

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked. "What you told my father. Did you mean it?"

Rick looked her straight in the eye before he responded. "Yes."

"Okay," she replied before turning to leave. "Count me in."

* * *

_*Author's note* In case anyone is wondering where I got Esposito's behavior concerning Roy Montgomery's reputation from, please watch Knockout when he and Ryan discover that he was the third cop. He was on the verge of beating his own partner, somebody who was like a brother to him, to a pulp for merely __suggesting__ that Montgomery was dirty. In this tale the bond between Kate and Espo had never been forged because this had come between them. So it isn't necessarily OOC under the circumstances. Such an accusation would not have been taken lightly and would have wrecked their partnership before it began._


	3. Reaching Out

**Chapter Three  
Reaching Out**

* * *

"_...I put it all into the job, Kate. I became the best cop I could be. And then when you walked into the 12th, I felt the hand of God. I knew He was giving me another chance, and I thought if I could protect you the way I should have protected her...__"_

Roy Montgomery

* * *

_Previously_

"_Thank you Lieutenant Castle, I'll talk to her. I can't promise anything, but I'll try."_

_Rick took his hand and shook it. "Thank you Mr. Beckett. I know this isn't easy, for her or for you, but I do want her to be safe. For this to be over. I've been where she is."_

"_Thank you, son. That somebody actually gives a damn about my Katie means a lot to me."_

_Rick spent the rest of the week fishing, hiking and spending time with Alexis, but they rarely strayed far from the cabin. He still held out the slim hope that Kate Beckett would take him up on his offer. Hope that grew more and more slim with each passing day there was no word or sign of her._

_They had spent the better part of the day packing their summer things and putting them in the shed, stocking the woodshed for the their return the week leading up to New Years Eve. When there was a knock on the door._

_When he opened it, Kate Beckett stood alone on the front porch, framed by the screen door, uncertainty painted on her wan, pretty face._

"_Did you mean what you said?" she asked, "What you told my father. Did you mean it?"_

_Rick looked her straight in the eye before he responded. "Yes."_

"_Okay." she replied before turning to leave. "Count me in."_

* * *

**Two weeks later**

Lt. Richard Castle had pulled detectives Ryan and Esposito into the conference room for the 12th Precinct Homicide Division as soon as they had both come in that morning. Katherine Beckett was scheduled to be in later that morning and he wanted to make sure they both knew exactly where he stood.

He'd worked a couple of pop- and-drops and a case of domestic violence gone horribly wrong with Detective Ryan during Esposito's suspension. They hadn't discussed the older Hispanic detective's suspension or his history with former detective Beckett. Castle knew he was unlikely to get anything out of Ryan (while he was gone anyway). The two of them had come to an uneasy detente of sorts while Esposito had been gone.

Now that he was back on the job, however, it was "cards on the table" time.

"Why are we in here so early, Lieutenant Castle?" Javier Esposito asked, the contempt in his voice as he accentuated his title clear. Rick was sure if the man had called him "sir" he would have meant "cur" instead. "You not done extracting your pound of flesh from my ass yet?"

"Katherine Beckett is coming in today to make her statement, Detective Esposito," Rick replied, his tone and posture taking on a more military bearing. Unlike the younger man in front of him, he had actually _commanded_ men in combat, not just fought, and he knew how to win in a fight for dominance and assert his authority.

At the pinched look Esposito's face took on at this knowledge, he knew it was time to drive his point home.

"Do you want to know the first thing Beckett said to me when my daughter and I went to see her? She thanked me for not taking your badge permanently, which I was, and still am, well within my rights to do. After all the shit you've heaped upon her - for years, I imagine - not to mention what you've put her through recently, her first thought upon meeting me was to beg me to give you another chance."

That got Javier Esposito's attention. His features softened and all of his bluster seemed to melt away. He finally began to look back at his behavior with a more critical eye... and found himself wanting. He still didn't like Kate Beckett, and likely never would, but for the first time saw her as the victim instead of the hostile witness who had tried to tarnish the reputation of his mentor.

"I still say she knows more than she's telling," He stated with just a hint of venom. "After what she tried to do to Montgomery's reputation, I don't trust her."

"I'm not asking you to, Javier," Castle replied, "I'm asking you to stop acting like a street punk and _start _acting like the cop that your record and clearance rate show you to be...the cop that even _she_ believes you are."

"Okay...Castle...I read you." Esposito replied, chastened.

"Good, because if you aren't certain that you can behave professionally while she's here, I suggest you find someplace else to be and let Ryan and I conduct the interview," Rick pointed out, "because the only other reason you still have your shield is because your partner put his _own_ badge on the line and vouched for you. It will likely end up next to yours in _Iron Gates'_ desk if Beckett's father raises hell."

Esposito was even more shocked as he regarded his partner. He had never once taken into consideration what consequences his actions might have on him. His outrage when it came to Kate Beckett was an old, open wound from before he knew Kevin Ryan... one that had been torn open anew when Captain Montgomery had been killed protecting her.

Castle knew that they had been assigned to the 12th the same year. Beckett a transfer from Vice and Esposito from the 54th, but that something had come between them... putting them on opposite sides of an incident that had been not just redacted, but carefully removed from the records at both the 12th Precinct _and_ One Police Plaza.

Castle had a hunch that this was why Kate had been quietly retired and put out to pasture..._and_ had likely led up to both Montgomery's death in that hanger and Kate Beckett's subsequent shooting. The request that a disgraced former detective give the eulogy at a hero's full honors funeral, in spite of his wife's objections, seemed too neat.

As if she had been placed there on purpose, like a lamb to the slaughter.

Castle had walked the crime scene... stood at the podium... lay prone in the sniper's hiding place looking down a scope. Looked at it like only a trained sniper could as he put himself into the mindset of the man who had been looking downrange at her that morning in May.

Kate Beckett _should_ be dead... if _he_ had taken the shot she would have been. At that relatively short range a trained sniper should _not_ have missed... unless he had been ordered to avoid a kill-shot on purpose. It was the only explanation that made sense.

It had been a warning. The second warning, it would seem, as he let his imagination connect the available evidence, filling in the blanks... building a theory that painted a dark picture indeed. Her father had been standing right next to her when she'd been shot. The message seemed clear as day.

There would be no third warning. The next time they came for her they would shoot to kill.

* * *

**Meanwhile**

**Kate Beckett's Tribecca Apartment**

Kate was nervous as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror in her gray dress-slacks and bra. She had gone back and forth between blouses several times, not certain which look she wanted to convey. The outfits she generally wore to book signings or launch parties looked either too casual, or too sexy. She wasn't sure it was appropriate for her to dress like a cop either. She may bump into Esposito, or that partner of his she didn't recognize, and she really didn't need another round of his accusations or his macho attitude.

Her eye was drawn to her reflection and the still healing bullet wound between her breasts, just above the front clasp of her bra, her fingers brushing over it softly.

She really couldn't blame Espo for hating her. She had been wrong about Roy from the very beginning. Her former captain had confessed his sins to her in the hanger that night before her father had come out of the shadows and dragged her away to the sound of gunshots. Since the day the NYPD had forced her out, she had been accusing him of being corrupt, convinced he had been complicit in her mom's murder after finding the files he'd altered in the Armand case. She'd been wrong.

Instead, he'd been acting to protect his family, _and her_ from the very people who had been, even after her accusations had cost her her shield. She had forgiven him that night, but the die had already been cast. Javi would never trust her again.

Her only hope was this Lt. Castle. So she'd had her contact at the FBI, Special Agent Jordan Shaw (on whom she had based Rachel McCord in her books) do a background check on him.

He had been born Richard Alexander Rodgers, son of the Broadway Diva Martha Rodgers in April of 1969, changed his name to Richard A. Castle before joining the US Marine Corps where he had served in Force Recon as a Scout /Sniper. He'd mustered out after Desert Storm with a purple heart and two commendations for conspicuous valor (a silver and bronze star respectively) including three heavily redacted sections in his service record that Shaw's security clearance had not been sufficient to access.

After recovering from his injuries, he'd joined the LAPD where he'd served as a SWAT sniper for three years. Married once... to a b-list actress named Meredith Chase after which he'd passed the detective's exam then transferred to Homicide after his daughter, Alexis had been born. Divorced two years later, when he'd caught her in bed with a relatively low-rent casting director, he had transferred to the 17th Precinct and moved into his mother's large loft in Soho.

The background on him made her feel a little better about trusting him. Because she saw only darkness at every turn, assassins in every shadow. A man calling himself Dr. Josh Davidson had shown up in her hospital room a week after her shooting and given her a package. In it were surveillance photos of her dad coming from his house... walking out of her apartment... leaving his AA meeting. The message had been chilling.

_"No one you care about is safe."_

She'd signed out of the hospital against medical advice two days later, as soon as she could stand and walk unassisted, packed two bags at her apartment had her father take her to the cabin in Grieg, New York and refused to let him go home.

The night that Esposito and his partner had showed up, the regular booming reports from across the lake from an entire afternoon of fireworks tests had ramped up her anxiety levels through the roof. When they had burst into the front door and demanded his compliance and he'd refused, the resulting scuffle unleashed the worst panic attack she had ever experienced.

In her panicked state they weren't cops. - It was "_them" - _they had come to kill her dad and make her watch... she didn't remember much more than flashes after that, only that when she came to... it was morning and her father was sitting in an easy chair next to her bed holding her hand.

It took him three days to coax her out of her room after that. Even now she slept with a gun under her pillow and another in her end table. She knew she was being paranoid. Her therapy sessions were helping, but was it paranoia if somebody really _was_ out to get her?

She wanted to be able to trust this Lt. Castle, she really did. He seemed to be a stand-up guy, and a caring father. She had watched the entire exchange between the man, his daughter and her own father, could see the honest affection in their eyes when Castle and his daughter looked at each other. The kind that couldn't be faked.

She did recognize the girl from her last three book launch parties, with her terra cotta hair she was hard to miss. Shy and polite, but with a fire behind her baby blue eyes. She was genuinely loved and cherished. Kate's time in vice had shown her what happens when the opposite is true.

It made her want to like and trust him, but that would only come in time. He would have to prove that he could handle what was to come. Too many lives were at stake. Not just hers and her father's, but Castle and _his_ family's as well. Sharing that burden would mean sharing the danger. She had to know that he was prepared for that.

Only time would tell.

She finally selected a blouse and put her hair up in a loose ponytail before slipping into a pair of ballet flats and headed for the door where her father was waiting to take her to the precinct. The first step was always the hardest.

Always.


	4. Confronting The Past

**Chapter Four  
Confronting the Past**

* * *

"_Yeah, but I know you. You're gonna pick up those scissors and run around the house with them. But I'm telling you now walk, don't run. Go where the evidence leads, not the other way around." ~_Roy Montgomery~

* * *

_Previously_

_Kate wanted to be able to trust this Lt. Castle, she really did. He seemed to be a stand-up guy, and a caring father. She had watched the entire exchange between the man, his daughter and her own father, could see the honest affection in their eyes when Castle and his daughter looked at each other. The kind that couldn't be faked._

_She did recognize the girl from her last three book launch parties, with her terra-cotta hair she was hard to miss. Shy and polite, but with a fire behind her baby blue eyes. She was genuinely loved and cherished. Kate's time in vice had shown her what happens when the opposite is true._

_It made her want to like and trust him, but that would only come in time. He would have to prove that he could handle what was to come. Too many lives were at stake. Not just hers and her father's, but Castle and __his__ family's as well. Sharing that burden would mean sharing the danger. She had to know that he was prepared for that._

_Only time would tell._

_She finally selected a blouse and put her hair up in a loose ponytail before slipping into a pair of ballet flats and headed for the door where her father was waiting to take her to the precinct. The first step was always the hardest._

_Always._

* * *

**12th Precinct  
9:00 A.M.**

By the time Kate Beckett had tentatively stepped off the elevator into the Homicide squad room with her father close behind, Javier Esposito had decided it was best to be elsewhere. Castle had covered his departure with Captain Gates, told her that he had gone to OCME in order to catch up on the forensics of their recent caseload, which was blissfully light, but he had it on good authority from Dr. Parish that he was also going there to apologize for being rude to Alexis.

Lanie had put it more colorfully, when she said, _"Javi is gonna apologize for upsetting my intern and learn some manners, or I'm-ma smack him three ways from Sunday!"_

It had obviously gotten around that he had given Esposito a break that the new captain might not have, and it seemed to have won him some style points. Of course he could have been a complete horse's ass and still been regarded more highly with the rank and file than a captain who had climbed her way up through Internal Affairs.

Victoria Gates was the boss and Castle respected that, but right now he respected the rank, more than the woman behind it. If she wanted more than that she would have to earn it. Just like any other commanding officer he had served under.

It went both ways, though, and he knew that. He was a FNG (fucking new guy) here too. Provided that Gates let him run Homicide without too much interference, he would run as tight a ship as Captain Gates wanted him to. He would, however, try to intercede on behalf of _"his"_ people where he could when circumstances permitted. If all went well, they might both eventually earn the loyalty of their people. That was the true essence of the thin, blue line.

He was glad that Esposito, Ryan and himself had come to an understanding - or at least an uneasy truce, anyway. He didn't want to mess with established pairings any more than he had to. Esposito and Ryan had an admirable closure rate as a team and he was loath to mess with that. He hoped to help them be better.

* * *

**Two Hours later.**

The interview with Kate Beckett had gone about as well as he could have expected. She didn't really have much to add to what he had already reconstructed at the scene.

For whatever reason, the sniper had intentionally pulled his punches. Her shooter had been at nearly the extreme range for a .227 round. Most of her injuries had been caused by the bullet fragments when they'd tumbled internally, not the impact of the round, which had barely retained enough kinetic energy to penetrate her chest.

Castle wanted to know why. From that range a .308 Lapua round or a .50 cal would have been instantly fatal, frangible or not. Somebody had both wanted Beckett alive, and to back off whatever she was digging into. He could only theorize about why at this point. But he could see the questions he had like bullet points in his head.

_Who would have enough pull to shoot a best-selling author in front of a hundred cops and still get away with it?_

_Who could afford to hire an assassin good enough to pull this off?_

_Did she find something she wasn't supposed to when researching one of her books?_

_Did it have something to do with her former Captain's murder?_

_What did Montgomery know, and how much did he tell her in that hangar?_

_Did the information he had die with him? If not, where is it? Who has it?_

_Did it have anything to do with why she was drummed out of the NYPD?_

_Are their deaths even connected?_

He had so many questions, and every answer that Beckett gave him had led to even more. She was holding something back, though. He could see it in her eyes, in the set of her shoulders. He could read her well enough to see that she wasn't doing it out of malice, or self-interest. The war going on behind her green flecked hazel eyes was plain to see for anyone who had been paying attention. He could tell that Ryan saw it too, and was as affected by it as he was.

She was afraid of something... or _someone._

Until that moment, Ryan's only knowledge of Beckett had been through the filter of his partner's anger and mistrust, but for the first time he actually looked at her and saw a person, a victim of a violent crime who deserved his empathy and protection. Castle could see the wheels turning in the younger man's head, the war behind his eyes.

When Castle finally ended the interview for the day, he knew he would receive no argument from Ryan. They could both see that Beckett was done for the day. She was holding herself together by force of will alone, aided only by the coffee from the espresso machine his mother had donated to the break room the one time she had swept through, tried the coffee from the precinct's machine and pronounced it unfit for human consumption.

She'd been right of course. It _had _tasted like a monkey peed in battery acid, actually made him long fondly for the instant coffee from his MRE's back in Iraq. Gates' objections had been swept aside like leaves in the wind, _"Hurricane Martha" _had that effect on people. Though he noticed the Captain's objections stopped when Martha presented her with the first cup.

"Miss Beckett," Rick said, "you look pretty dead on your feet, I think we can table this for a couple days."

There was gratitude in her eyes, even as she began to raise a token objection.

"Please, call me Kate... I'm fine..." She began, but Rick cut her off.

"Miss Beckett... _Kate_... you're exhausted... I can see it from here," Rick began, "if this guy was gonna try again, he would have by now. I've put a detail on you, and your publicist tells me Black Pawn hired a private security firm. Get some rest and we'll hit this again in a couple days. If you need to reach me, you have my numbers."

Rick helped her out of her chair in the conference room and guided her out the door on shaky legs to meet her father who had been sitting at his desk.

Ryan hung back almost shyly at the cold glare Jim Beckett leveled at him, lowering his head in shame.

He had told Javi at the time that he'd had reservations about going to the Beckett cabin... about Javi confronting her so soon after her shooting. He'd tried to talk him out of it more than once on the trip up there, but he was in it with him 'til the wheels fell off and in the end he'd had his partner's back.

One look at the woman in full panic mode that night and he'd known how big a mistake it had been.

The New York State Troopers sending them packing after a night in lockup and a phone call to the new captain had simply driven it home. He remembered the watch commander's words like it was yesterday after he'd released them from holding and returned their badges and guns.

_"Jim Beckett has a lot of friends up here, a couple of them are judges. If the two of you weren't cops, you would _both _be in the _county _lockup facing felony charges right now. Don't show your faces here again, or next time you'll be permanent guests of the county."_

That of course had been nothing compared to Captain Gates' fury when they'd arrived back in the city. She'd suspended Javi without pay on the spot, and had only stayed her hand where _he _was concerned because Javi had gone to bat for him. It was a real mess.

Kevin Ryan was not just Irish, but a devout Catholic as well. He'd gone to confession after that night, done his penance to God, but he had one last act of contrition to make before he could look himself in the mirror and truly call himself a man, so he stepped further into the squad room and approached Kate and her father.

"Mr. Beckett, I'm Detective Ryan," he began doing his best to look the man in the eye.

"Yes, Detective, I know who you are." Jim stated coldly.

"I can't speak for my partner, but I wanted you to know how sorry I am for my part in what happened that night. That isn't why I became a cop, Javi either."

"Thank you, Detective." Jim replied, "I don't know if I'm prepared to forgive you or your partner for what you put Katie through that night, but I accept your apology. It's a sign of good character. I hope you can learn from this and be a better influence on your partner in the future."

With that, Castle walked Jim and Kate Beckett to the elevator and out of the squad room without another word.

As much as Castle wanted to keep digging, and find out what it was that Kate was holding back, he knew he had to tread carefully to earn Kate's trust. He also knew that the next day was September eleventh, and he had someplace to be. He had a long-standing date to keep.

* * *

**September 11, 2011  
10:45 A.M.  
**

Richard Castle stood at full attention, dressed in his Marine Corps dress blues in a sea of white marble at one of the far edges of Forest Lawn Cemetery, looking down at a white marker. The small American flag flapping in the breeze it its Veterans of Foreign Wars holder. All that he had left of a woman whom, had things gone differently twenty years ago, might have been his wife instead of Meredith.

The inscription read:

**Kyra Blaine  
New York  
2nd Lt. U.S. Army**

**August 14, 1970-  
February 25, 1991**

**Iraq  
Operation Desert Storm**

He knew that Patriot's Day was more about the people who had lost their lives in 9/11, but he nearly always found himself here instead. Maybe one day he would bring Alexis here, but he didn't want her to think that he would ever wish for a world that didn't have her in it. In the end it had been her, his precious little pumpkin, who had pulled him out of the dark place Kyra's death had sent him spiraling to by the time he'd met her mother at a party so long ago.

Part of the reason he had taken this case so personally, was that the sniper had been kneeling here, had used the stone of a fallen hero, one of his country's honored dead, the woman he had loved... that he still loved to this day... to do harm to another human being. Kyra would have hated that and Richard Castle would not be satisfied until justice had been served, both for Kyra and for Kate Beckett.

_Orders...hut!_

Rick dropped to one knee, carefully placed a bouquet of blood-red roses in front of her stone, rose to his feet and snapped once again to full attention, his right hand rising slowly to the brim of his cover, then just as slowly back down, a single tear finding its way down his cheek.

When his hand returned to position at his side, he took one step back, turned crisply ninety degrees to the right and walked slowly, solemnly out of the cemetery to his waiting car.

He was not going to look for this man, he was going to _hunt_. If this piece of shit chose to put up a fight, then justice would be served cold.

Hoorah.

* * *

**_**Author's notes**_**

**_The date on the tombstone is significant. It marks the date during the first Persian Gulf War (1991) when an Iraqi Scud missile struck and demolished a barracks near Dhahran, Saudi Arabia killing 27 American Soldiers (primarily of the 475th Quartermaster Group) and wounded 98._**

**_Honor the fallen._**

**_To the guest reviewer known as "Mick" from the previous chapter, thank you for providing the benefit of your expertise, if you have an account here please log in and PM me, I would love to pick your brain on the matter. _**

**_As for the survival odds of Kate's shooting... that you will have to take up with Andrew W. Marlowe. _**

**_I'm assuming for the sake of my story that the rifle that shot Kate was chambered for a .226 round instead of .308 and hoping that makes a difference (the one thing I recall about the sniper rifle in question is that the barrel and receiver could be easily switched between them so a sniper would not have to carry two rifles into an urban combat zone)_.**


	5. Adventures In Fatherhood

**Chapter Five  
Adventures in Fatherhood**

* * *

"_This is my house, Kate. The mayor doesn't call the shots here, I do. You ought to know that by now."_  
Roy Montgomery

* * *

_Previously_

_"__Mr. Beckett, I'm Detective Ryan," he began doing his best to look the man in the eye._

_"Yes, Detective, I know who you are." Jim stated coldly._

_"I can't speak for my partner, but I wanted you to know how sorry I am for my part in what happened that night. That isn't why I became a cop, Javi either."_

_"Thank you, Detective." Jim replied, "I don't know if I'm prepared to forgive you or your partner for what you put Katie through that night, but I accept your apology. It's a sign of good character. I hope you can learn from this and be a better influence on your partner in the future."_

_With that, Castle walked Jim and Kate Beckett to the elevator and out of the squad room without another word._

_As much as Castle wanted to keep digging, and find out what it was that Kate was holding back, he knew he had to tread carefully to earn Kate's trust. He also knew that the next day was September eleventh, and he had someplace to be. He had a long-standing date to keep._

* * *

Richard Castle had only just changed out of his dress blues and into more comfortable attire when Alexis walked in the door, her eyes barely focused on where she was going as she flitted past him, pulling the door shut behind her.

He knew that look. She was infatuated with another of a (thankfully) short string of boys in school over the past few years. It was enough to give him heart palpitations.

"I want to meet this boy, pumpkin," he said in his cop voice.

_"Daddy!"_ Alexis exclaimed, knowing what was coming next.

"You heard me, young lady,." Rick said again, unwilling to brook defiance.

"But...Daddy... please..." she whined. She hardly ever whined and it pulled at his heartstrings, but this time he followed his gut.

"Alexis, the last time I let you talk me out of having this chat was with _Owen_, and you remember how that turned out."

Alexis pouted, but he didn't have to push the issue very far. Her junior prom date had been a marvelous companion _that _night, but a few weeks later he just seemed to...lose interest and decided playing video games was more important than keeping their movie date.

_"Why do boys do that? Why do they have to justify everything? Why can't they just say they're sorry?"_

He remembered the tears in her eyes when she'd asked him that like it was yesterday. He'd wanted to hunt down that boy and tear him limb from limb for making his baby cry. He still did.

Her heart had been broken. He remembered how she'd moped about the loft the entire weekend after she'd broken up with him. Not even ice cream and a movie night could make it all better. The fact that Meredith had canceled last minute on her birthday the weekend before hadn't helped. He'd had to watch helplessly as Alexis' self-esteem crumbled _twice _in the same week. He'd promised himself that very day, that he would never let her talk him out of the father/boyfriend chat again.

He might not have any control over whom she dated, or gave her heart to and he certainly couldn't do anything about her flighty, irresponsible self-centered mother. He could damn-straight put the fear of _God _into the teenage boys she dated so they'd think twice about hurting her or leaving her heartbroken, however.

Whether his daughter liked it or not.

* * *

**An** **hour later.**

When Alexis finished the dishes after dinner before getting ready for her date with Ashley, she saw a newspaper spread out on the coffee table, with his ESU-issued sniper rifle disassembled and fully cleaned awaiting reassembly on the paper and his fully assembled M-4 unloaded on the table nearby.

"Daddy!" she complained. "Really? Don't you trust me?"

"Pumpkin, _you _I trust implicitly," he replied with absolute conviction, "teenage boys, however? Not so much."

"But, Daaaad," she admonished, not even trying to disguise her mortification, "_both_ rifles? Do you have to be such a _Marine_?"

"Semper Fi...urRAH!" Rick replied without hesitation. (barely holding himself back from saying "Once a Marine, always a Marine")

Alexis had known she would get that response, even as she rolled her eyes at her dad. She had always been proud of his military service and always would be, but sometimes it made him a little too rigid in her opinion.

He had raised her well and she knew how to reject unwanted advances from boys...violently if necessary. (He had taken her to Krav Maga classes since she was six and personally taught her Marine hand to hand) She just wished he would relax a little. Trust that she knew her own heart and could take care of herself.

"Alexis, you have my word as a Marine that I won't make any overt threats," Rick stated with equal conviction, "what _Ashley_ chooses to take away from our little chat will be entirely up to him."

"Dad," she huffed, puppy-dog pout firmly in place, "he'll think I'm a freak!"

"Not if he really cares about you he won't," he replied, holding his ground, "and if he _doesn't_, it's best to find out sooner than later."

In her heart of hearts, Alexis knew her dad was really talking about her mother. As much as she knew her dad loved her and tried to shield her from the worst of her mother's ego-centric ways, she was well aware of Meredith Chase's lack of commitment to _anything _but herself.

If her mom hadn't gotten pregnant with her, Dad would never have married her. She would have gotten bored eventually and moved on to greener pastures.

Whenever she'd asked her Grams about what her dad had been like before he'd gone to war or met her mother, she found some way to deflect the conversation away.

Obviously something really bad must have happened to him. They don't give out The Purple Heart for perfect attendance after all. Martha Rodgers had never been particularly good at keeping secrets otherwise.

Her grandmother still had the Guidon in her bedroom window from when he'd been in Iraq. It had faded with the passage of years, but the blue star in the center was evident.

There was the date marked "anniversary" on his desk calendar that didn't correspond to either the day he married her mother or the day he'd divorced her. The one marked "birthday" that was neither hers nor her grams'.

He always left the loft early in the morning on those days, in his Marine dress blues and he always came back looking so...sad... like a piece of his heart was missing. Most of those times when he got back, he would take her out for ice cream, or to the park, or the movies, but tonight she was going on a date.

Was that what this was _really _about? She thought to herself.

Before Alexis could get any further along on this train of thought, her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, startling her back into the moment. Just in time to see her father move toward the door before she could intercept him.

"Scoot, Pumpkin, go get ready. Powder your nose or whatever teenage girls do these days." Her dad stated with a lilt of humor in his tone, "I promise not to make him wet his pants, like I should've done to Owen."

That was likely the only concession she was going to get from her dad, so she resigned herself to spending her date with a boy who would be afraid to touch her or look at her sideways for fear of angering her dad, who was generally more of a good natured sort. She sighed and rolled her eyes again, leveling a death glare at her father before going upstairs.

When Rick opened the door he could tell that Ashley had not expected him to answer it. The boy seemed nervous though, and he had flowers, which was a good sign. Rick checked that box in his head in the "pro" column. It was neither too small...nor too large denoting he had _expectations_ which was also a mark in the pro column.

"Come in, young man," he said, pulling the door wider to admit him as he walked inside, "I'm Rick, Alexis' father."

When he led the boy to the couch and indicated the armchair kitty corner to it, he saw the boy's eyes go wide at the sight of the fully disassembled match-grade sniper rifle on the coffee table. The parts carefully cleaned and arranged in the proper order for reassembly.

After he motioned for Ashley to sit in the chair, he spent most of the time while Alexis was out of the room making small talk. He never broke eye contact with the boy as he reassembled the sniper rifle. His eyes boring deeply into Ashley's as he slid each part together. He almost felt sorry for the boy when he slid the bolt into place and slapped it home, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

The Marine Corps had long ago taught him to perform this task blindfolded. (Both with his M-4 and his long gun) He knew each part of both weapons by feel. He could have assembled it much more quickly, but he'd wanted this boy to get the full effect as he slid each part into place without breaking eye contact. He knew without question that he had the boy's full attention.

"Now for the serious part of the conversation, young man," Rick stated coolly, "this was just for show." He indicated the sniper rifle before setting it on the coffee table.

He watched Ashley's Adam's Apple bob up and down, and saw that the wheels were turning in the boy's brain._ "Good" _he thought,mentally checking off another box in the boy's pro column_ "he grasps subtext."_.

"Alexis is my only child and I love her more than my own life. She is the most important person in my world, and I expect you to treat her accordingly. Do you understand me?"

"Of course, Mr. Castle,." The boy replied.

_"Demonstrates proper respect"_ Castle thought to himself, checking another mental box in the boy's favor after noting that he hadn't fallen for the subtle trap of addressing him by his first name.

"Since this isn't a school night, I expect you to have her home no later than eleven thirty, son, looking exactly like she does when you two walk out that door, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Castle."

_"Point affirmatively made,." _he thought to himself,_ "time to seal the deal." _

He nodded in the direction of his unloaded M-4 carbine.

"I can disassemble and reassemble that weapon in just under three minutes, which I will start doing at _precisely _eleven thirty-one,." Rick stated with just a hint of menace in his tone. "Because I like you, I will clean each part thoroughly, which will give you an even ten minutes before I start making discreet phone calls."

Rick gave him a look that he was sure made the temperature in the living room drop ten degrees.

"You do _not _want that to happen."

Ashley gulped audibly as he nodded his assent to what was as close to an overt threat as he would give the boy, he'd given Alexis his word as a Marine after all.

"I'm glad we had this chat, son," he said, giving the boy a more compassionate look and a gentle but firm clap on the shoulder, "it's good to know we understand each other."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Castle"

When Alexis breezed down the stairs shortly thereafter, she noticed that Ashley was only a little paler than normal. _"Good, Dad went easy on him." _She thought to herself.

Her first serious boyfriend had been so thoroughly intimidated that he had nearly fainted when her cell phone rang in the cab on the way home from the theater. They'd been caught in traffic and were only a few minutes late. He'd left her with Eduardo and bolted without even trying for a goodnight kiss. He never spoke to her again.

Dad got the message about being a bit more subtle after she'd stopped speaking to him for a week. God have mercy on Owen if dad ever found him on the street. She knew her Dad would never actually _harm _him, but Owen certainly would not know that.

She took Ashley by the arm and pulled him out of the loft to go to the movies.

_"Mission Accomplished"_ Rick thought to himself. It had taken a lot of trial and error to get his version of the "_I'll just be here...cleaning this gun" _scenario. He kind of liked this boy and didn't want to give him too much of a complex.

But he would be waiting up, Alexis' parting shot as the two of them departed notwithstanding.

He was definitely having heart palpitations.

* * *

_****Author's note** Thought I would inject a little bit of family drama in here before I went darker with this one. Had a little fun with Alexis and Ashley. Because god knows I don't wanna even think about Pi.**_


	6. A Mother's Lament

**Chapter Six**  
**A Mother's Lament**

* * *

_"Think about how much you love Alexis and that is how much I love you." _

Martha Rodgers

* * *

"_So hold me when I'm here__  
__Right me when I'm wrong__  
__Hold me when I'm scared__  
__And love me when I'm gone__  
_

_Everything I am__  
__And everything in me__  
__Wants to be the one__  
__You wanted me to be__  
_

_I'll never let you down__  
__Even if I could__  
__I'd give up everything__  
__If only for your good__  
_

_So hold me when I'm here__  
__Right me when I'm wrong__  
__You can hold me when I'm scared__  
__You won't always be there__  
__So love me when I'm gone" _

3 Doors Down: "When I'm Gone"

* * *

_Previously__  
_

_In her heart of hearts, Alexis knew her dad was really talking about her mother. As much as she knew her dad loved her and tried to shield her from the worst of her mother's ego-centric ways, she was well aware of Meredith Chase's lack of commitment to anything but herself._

_If her mom hadn't gotten pregnant with her, Dad would never have married her. She would have gotten bored eventually and moved on to greener pastures._

_Whenever she'd asked her Grams about what her dad had been like before he'd gone to war or met her mother, she found some way to deflect the conversation away. Obviously something really bad must have happened to him. They don't give out The Purple Heart for perfect attendance after all. Martha Rodgers had never been particularly good at keeping secrets otherwise._

_Her grandmother still had the Guidon in her bedroom window from when he'd been in Iraq. It had faded with the passage of years, but the blue star in the center was evident._

_There was the date marked "anniversary" on his desk calendar that didn't correspond to either the day he married her mother or the day he'd divorced her. The one marked "birthday" that was neither hers nor her grams'._

_He always left the loft early in the morning on those days, in his Marine dress blues and he always came back looking so...sad... like a piece of his heart was missing. Most of those times when he got back, he would take her out for ice cream, or to the park, or the movies, but tonight she was going on a date._

"_Was that what this was really about?" She thought to herself._

* * *

**Two Hours Later**

Martha Rodgers sat on her bed, looking idly out the window, the guidon that still hung from it catching her eye as she looked out over the city. With Alexis out on a date and her son either stalking between his study, the kitchen and the living room or fiddling with that damned rifle of his she had decided to stay upstairs.

He had emptied the rather large gun-safe he kept in his study and took each of his guns apart, cleaned and put them each back together... twice...since Alexis had left for her date with Ashley nearly two hours ago.

She'd heard him moving furniture shortly before the stereo came on playing the music she knew he favored when he walked the martial arts forms he used to clear his mind when his emotions got the better of him. She didn't have to leave her room to know what he was doing. He was using the same forms he'd been taught to use to take human life to empty his mind of doubt and fear.

Empty his mind of the anxiety Martha knew had been building in him since Alexis hit puberty and started showing an interest in boys. She was growing up, about to spread her wings and leave the nest where he could no longer protect her, which had been his sole purpose in life and now it was coming to an end.

Martha knew that Richard loved his daughter and never wanted to see her get hurt, but his inability to let go of her was neither helpful nor healthy. It hurt her deeply, in a way only a mother could understand that she knew why, just like she knew why she still kept that blue star mother guidon in her window.

The son she had done her best to raise alone, who had walked out the door in late 1990 to go off to war was not the wounded, broken man she'd gotten back the following year. She remembered _exactly _when things had changed, just like it was yesterday.

He'd taken a small camcorder with him to Saudi Arabia and kept a daily journal of his time in the desert, sending her a video cassette at the end of each week. It was about three weeks into Operation Desert Shield when a woman, Lt. Kyra Blaine, first appeared. At first she had seemed annoyed by his attention, then slowly she seemed to warm to him. Martha was fully aware how charming her son could be.

By the end of that week's journal she could tell by the looks they gave each other, they were falling in love. The video he had sent the day after Christmas of them opening the gifts she and Kyra's parents had sent was absolutely heartwarming. She remembered being glad that he had found someone else to be around other than the men in his unit. She appreciated them because they had kept her son alive, but they could be a crude, arrogant lot at times (by necessity, she imagined). Even now she marveled at how grown men could all be such little boys sometimes.

He had told her in one of his few solo vids after hostilities officially began that January that he had bought a ring in the base PX and was going to propose after the war was over and they rotated stateside. He'd seemed so happy then, so filled with life.

A few short weeks later, all of that had changed. She'd only just watched the vid where he'd spoken of the ring when she saw the news of the Scud missile attack. It was four days before she'd heard from him or about him after that. Four whole days of unmitigated hell, when she'd had no idea whether her son was alive or dead.

Watching the news, hoping to see him and praying she wouldn't. Nearly jumping out of her skin every time there was a knock on the door, or the phone rang. Thanking every deity she could think of each time that it wasn't her worst fear, a message that began with _"Mrs Rodgers we regret to inform you..."_

When she finally got a phone call from Richard, she was relieved, until the utterly devastated tone of his voice registered and he'd told her that Kyra had been critically wounded in the attack (too critically wounded to be medi-vacked out).

That she had died three days later, having never regained consciousness.

He never sent another vid after that, and wrote to her only sparingly. She had only found out about his injuries during the battle of Kafji and the liberation of Kuwait because she'd received a telegram from the Marine Corps. Followed by the official announcement that he had been recommended for the Silver Star the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. That he was being shipped home to Walter Reed.

Two of the men from his unit came to the loft in full uniforms carrying his personal effects. A footlocker and his gunny sack. She found his camcorder at the bottom of the footlocker, carefully stowed, the cassette still inside and the batteries were dead. She'd sent his uniforms to be dry cleaned and unpacked everything...taking a full inventory of what was left of his life after Kyra.

Kyra was on prominent display through most of the footage on that tape, but in a rare vid of just him and the boys she saw something that had chilled her blood. Rick's father. He was wearing BDU's with no rank insignia and a name patch that read "_Webb_" but it was definitely him. From his body language, Richard obviously had no idea who he was, other than a nameless spook.

As soon as the doctors and physical therapists at Walter Reed pronounced him physically fit, he was gone again. It was weeks later when she learned he'd joined the LAPD. He wrote to her a bit more often but it was obvious that he was once again chasing death... most likely his own. Until the day his new "girlfriend of the week" an actress named Meredith Chase, had become pregnant.

Things got better, or at least seemed to, after Alexis was born. He was still chasing death, but at least it was other people's deaths...as a homicide detective.

After he had finally divorced that odious harlot Meredith, on his last official day with the LAPD she heard on the news about the violent robbery at Bank of America. That whole morning she'd been on pins and needles, her eyes glued to CNN... It was the scud attack all over again.

Alexis had been only two... but her daycare had been only a half mile from that Bank of America branch. Even now he rarely spoke of that day, but the haunted look in his eyes when he'd gotten off the plane carrying his sleeping daughter a week later had spoken volumes.

She'd seen it then.

Alexis was his only lifeline, the only thing keeping him tied to this world. He was still not whole. Still the broken, wounded, defeated shell of a man who had come home from Iraq. He was still so far from the boy she'd raised, and so radically different from the father Alexis knew that she could not bear to speak to Alexis of the boy and the man he had once been.

One day, Martha Rodgers hoped she would truly get her son back. That he would one day emerge from the shell he had built around his heart after the devastation of losing his first true love and see that he has so much more to live for than chasing death.

On that day, (and not one minute before) she would remove that guidon from her window and truly welcome her son home from Desert Storm.

* * *

_****Author's Note** yes, I know I have gotten away from using the Roy Montgomery quotes, but the Martha Rodgers one seemed more appropriate all things being equal. I was gonna add this to the end of the last chapter before posting but it went longer than I expected and I felt it deserved its own.**_

_**I dedicate it to every soldier who ever went to war and came back broken in either mind, body or spirit (or didn't come back at all) and the mothers who love them.**_

_**Honor the fallen.**_


	7. Complications

**Chapter Seven  
Complications**

* * *

"_I cannot make Beckett stand down, Castle. I never could.  
And the way I figure, the only one who can is you."_

Captain Roy Montgomery

* * *

_Previously_

_After he had finally divorced that odious harlot Meredith, on his last official day with the LAPD she heard on the news about the violent robbery at Bank of America. That whole morning she'd been on pins and needles, her eyes glued to CNN... It was the scud attack all over again._

_Alexis had been only two... but her daycare had been only a half mile from that Bank of America branch. Even now he rarely spoke of that day, but the haunted look in his eyes when he'd gotten off the plane carrying his sleeping daughter a week later had spoken volumes._

_She'd seen it then._

_Alexis was his only lifeline, the only thing keeping him tied to this world. He was still not whole. Still the broken, wounded, defeated shell of a man who had come home from Iraq. He was still so far from the boy she'd raised, and so radically different from the father Alexis knew that she could not bear to speak to Alexis of the boy and the man he had once been._

_One day, Martha Rodgers hoped she would truly get her son back. That he would one day emerge from the shell he had built around his heart after the devastation of losing his first true love and see that he has so much more to live for than chasing death._

_On that day, (and not one minute before) she would remove that guidon from her window and truly welcome her son home from Desert Storm._

* * *

**Kate **

"_I put it all into the job, Kate. I became the best cop I could be. And then when you walked into the 12th, I felt the hand of God. I knew He was giving me another chance, and I thought if I could protect you the way I should have protected her..." Montgomery said in a harsh whisper, the gun in Kate's hand was limp at her side as she regarded the man before her with the same suspicion she'd had for years since she'd lost her badge._

"_Did you kill my mother?" she asked him, hearing the accusatory tone in her own voice and not caring. She needed the truth, and she needed to hear it from him.  
_

"No_," Montgomery replied emphatically, "that was years later. But she died because of what we did that night."  
_

_Kate digested that for a moment, biting back the tears that tried to form behind her eyes, _

"_Then who killed her?" she asked._

_It was more a demand than a question. She was not asking him anymore, she was interrogating her former captain, who'd let her be forced off the job without so much as a fight... she owed him nothing,. not a shred of kindness considering what he'd set in motion.  
_

"_I don't know how," Montgomery continued, as if she'd said nothing, "but somehow he figured out what we had done, and he could have turned us all in. Instead, he demanded the ransom money. He took that money to become what he is. And God forgive me, but that may be my greatest sin." _

_"Give me a name," Kate demanded again, "you owe me that, Roy." _

_"No, Kate." He replied, his jaw set with a resolve she hadn't seen in years, "I give you a name - I know you - you'll run straight at him. I might as well shoot you where you stand."_

_His gun was still pointed down, but hers began to rise imperceptibly.  
_

"_That's why you brought me here, isn't it? To kill me?" she asked, not wanting to believe the words tumbling out of her mouth. _

_She had trusted this man once, he had been like a surrogate father to her for nearly her entire career as a cop, since that day in the records vault, through the worst of her father's alcoholism, Royce's and then later Sorenson's desertion. He had seen her through all of it... until she had learned the truth...about how deeply his betrayal had gone.  
_

"_No," he whispered, keeping his gun down, "I brought you here to lure them."  
_

"_You baited them?" She asked...suddenly confused, "but...you work for them..," She tried to get a handle on this new information he had given her, the conviction to keep her alive burning in his eyes, even as she heard the squeal of tires in the distance outside the hangar.  
_

"_That's what they think, and now they're coming." he said, his eyes shifting first out the open hangar door to the headlights turning their way, then to a spot behind and to the left of her, near the helicopter that occupied the center of the building, "I need you to leave. They're coming to kill you, and I'm not gonna let 'em."_

_Kate felt hands grabbing her from behind to hoist her from the ground and she screamed..._

_"I'm sorry Katie...I'm so sorry..."_

* * *

Kate snapped awake, drenched in sweat, a silent scream on her lips, her wounded heart hammering in her chest.

It wasn't the shooting at least, but the hangar was nearly as bad. She remembered the rest as if it had happened yesterday. It had been her father who had yanked her off her feet. Montgomery had yelled at him to get her out of there. She begged and pleaded with her father to put her down, pleaded with Montgomery not to do this... to give her the name and help her take the "dragon" down... that she forgave him, but her father had dragged her kicking and screaming from the hangar.

Bare moments after her father had thrown her into his truck the gunshots began... She would never see Roy Montgomery alive again.

The letter she received in the mail, addressed to Montgomery, but written in her mother's precise handwriting, written not to her but to him, beseeching Roy to keep her daughter safe if something happened to her and the sight of his body in that coffin at the funeral filled her with guilt and remorse. He had been protecting her all this time... all these years... at her _mother's _request.

Not just from this unknown man...this _"dragon"_ but from her own worst impulses as well.

When her life had imploded on January 9th 1999, she'd had nothing to pull her out of that dark hole of despair that her life had fallen into. Catching her mother's killer had become her bottle of scotch...her addiction. After her mother's murder case had gone cold and her dad had abandoned her for the bottle, her soul turned to ice and her heart had turned to stone.

It wasn't as if she was sent back to square one after Montgomery died, (the PI and bounty hunter licenses had given her some clout and when her her first book hit the top of the Best Seller list she began to cultivate resources) square fifty just didn't lead her anywhere without access to what Roy Montgomery knew. Which was likely this _"Dragon's" reaso_n for killing him all along. Why she had not been finished off in the hospital. They thought her impotent without his knowledge.

She'd looked up the name on the man's I.D. badge and the picture of Dr. Josh Davidson she had found did not match the man who had checked her chart and left those pictures of her dad. The real Dr. Josh Davidson looked like a very nice man... he had a kind face and was certainly easy on the eyes. She might have even considered dating him had things been different, but his name just made her skin crawl now, since she couldn't assign a different one to the man who had been in her room when she'd been too weak to do anything to stop him from killing her. She was only alive because the man had not been sent to take her life.

She had never in her life felt so powerless.

Part of her wished she hadn't made her father go home the night before. That dream had thrown her, and she felt alone and vulnerable...a prisoner in her own home, afraid to go outside, but too freaked out by that dream to be cooped up in her apartment alone. She felt even more nervous when her dad's phone had gone to voice mail. He'd told her he would be in court all day and his phone would be off, but it still stung.

She had gotten these newer, more secure digs after a stalker/serial killer named Scott Dunn had targeted her two years before and blown up her last apartment with her inside. Special Agent Jordan Shaw being in her debt several times over after that had paid dividends. It had started out as simple debt repayment, but she and Shaw had developed a friendship of sorts over the years.

In many ways, this new place had never quite felt like home, even less so now. Not like the family cabin in the Adirondacks. She felt isolated and alone, in spite of the police detail and the increased security presence Black Pawn had insisted upon. Gina would not be denied.

She needed to talk to somebody... someone who understood what she felt. Though she didn't know him well, she could only think of one man who might. Her research had told her he had been wounded twice in combat in Iraq and been treated for PTSD for most of his career as an officer of the LAPD. Especially after the Bank of America robbery. (how Jordan had gotten her hands on that information she didn't want to know)

She was dialing his number before she knew what she was doing.

"Castle," came his terse, businesslike greeting. She realized at that moment that she'd never called him before. She remembered dimly answering the phone much the same way as a detective. It was familiar and strangely comforting to hear somebody talking to her like a cop. Even though he didn't know yet that he was talking to her.

"Lieutenant Castle, it's Kate Beckett.,'she whispered, feeling very small.

"Miss Beckett, are you okay? Is something wrong?" His voice overflowed with concern, worried she might be in danger.

"I...I'm sorry to bother you, Lieutenant... but no, I'm not okay. I... I need to talk to _somebody_... and my dad... He loves me, don't get me wrong, but he doesn't understand," she rambled, not knowing why she found it so easy to trust him. But the way he had related to his daughter the day they'd come to the cabin, and when she had gone to theirs had given her hope.

"Of course, Miss Beckett" he responded, "it's no bother at all." She could tell he was confused, but willing to reach out to her in a way that warmed her heart and made her feel a little safer.

"Please...call me Kate," she said, before inviting him to her home.

* * *

**The Office of Senator William Bracken  
Washington DC**

William Bracken looked down at the file in front of him for former 1st Lt. Richard A. Castle USMC. Her had the man's file from the LAPD and the NYPD as well. The only information not at his fingertips was the heavily redacted section during his tour of duty in Desert Storm. It had taken place during the week after his reportedly being wounded at Kafji but before he was listed as wounded in action during the liberation of Kuwait.

Even as a United States Senator he did not have, nor did he have access to anyone with a high enough security clearance to access the above top secret information to read the blacked out section of his file. It was of little consequence, merely one week of the man's life but it rankled him that he didn't have the power to snap his fingers and get what he wanted.

He had enough, however to talk to the man he had keeping an eye on Katherine Beckett, and looking for the mystery man blackmailing him to protect her.

He took the burner phone out of his desk and sent a text message to Mr. Maddox. He didn't even know the man's real name, just a succession of aliases but he did good work, worth every penny he'd paid him since Roy Montgomery had taken Hal Lockwood down with him.

_The detective on your case can't be bought, but he can be persuaded.  
He has a daughter if it comes to that. Information at the usual place._

The text he got back two minutes later was to the point.

_Understood_

Though Bracken never liked to appear as anything but unruffled and in control of everything that came within his sphere of influence, Maddox could not do his job properly without complete information. The mysterious, but apparently dangerous man who had gotten into his Georgetown Brownstone without an appointment last night without alerting any of his security then disappeared like a ghost after making his point had made him cautious. All he had to prove his existence was an image on a single security camera. One the man had likely allowed on purpose, which did little to ease his anxiety. The one contact at the CIA he'd asked about the man told him to burn that photo, wipe the footage from his security feed do whatever that man told him to do and forget he'd _ever_ seen him.

_Be careful and discreet,  
this Detective is your fighting equal  
someone is protecting him.  
Somebody higher up the food chain than I am. _

* * *

_****Author's note** My other story in the ficathon, "Ten Weeks of the Ripper" has reached 50K and I'm quite happy about that fact. A big thank you to all of my writer friends for their support. I'm hoping to get this one to 25K by the deadline too, not sure I'll get there but I'll be pouring on the effort. Hopefully I won't drive Cofkett insane with the chapter updates over the next few days. We shall see.**_


	8. Building Trust

**Chapter Eight  
Building Trust**

* * *

"_Kate, you're the best that I've ever trained, maybe the best I've ever seen. But you weren't having any fun before he came along.__"  
_Captain Roy Montgomery

* * *

_Previously_

"_Lieutenant Castle, it's Kate Beckett." Kate whispered, feeling very small._

_"Miss Beckett, are you okay? Is something wrong?" His voice overflowed with concern, worried she might be in danger._

_"I...I'm sorry to bother you, Lieutenant...but I... I need to talk to somebody...and my dad...He loves me, but he,doesn't understand." She rambled, not knowing why she found it so easy to trust him. But the way he had related to his daughter the day they'd come to the cabin, and when she had gone to theirs had given her hope._

_"Of course, Miss Beckett." He responded, "it's no bother at all." She could tell he was confused, but willing to reach out to her in a way that warmed her heart and made her feel a little safer._

_"Please...call me Kate." She said, before inviting him to her home._

* * *

When the two solid knocks sounded on her door, Kate thought she was going to have a panic attack, they were so loud... at least to her. They echoed off the walls of her apartment from the solid reinforced steel door, a holdover from the industrial building her apartment complex had once been.

She had remembered being somewhat paranoid after Scott Dunn had fire-bombed her last apartment. The heavy steel door with the solid deadbolts and hinges set into a heavy steel frame had been a major selling point when she'd first been shown the building.

That the owner had been willing to permit her to have her own locksmith replace and modernize all the lock cylinders and have a full security system installed, neither of which he would have access to, was another. (the money she could throw around as a best-selling author held certain advantages).

The windows were more secure, too, especially the ones on the fire escape. Her place was a fortress when she'd moved in two years ago, it was even more so now since the security expert Black Pawn had insisted upon had been through while she was at the family cabin.

She had not been sure whom she could trust at the NYPD at the time, so the system had been set to alert a man at the FBI NY field office that Shaw had personally vouched for. She was considering having it changed to contact dispatch at the 12th Precinct now that she had reasonable assurances (and a few unreasonable ones) that the new Captain, Victoria Gates was indeed cleaning house with a very wide broom.

Her father had told her about Detective Ryan's apology, along with his assurances that he believed the younger man to be sincere. She would have Jordan check Kevin Ryan out before she would consider trusting him, though. After what had happened with his previous partner, she knew Javier Esposito was extremely selective in whom he placed his trust, though. Only time would tell. Until then she would verify before she took any chances.

* * *

When Kate Beckett opened the door, Richard Castle could tell that he had startled her.

He'd forgotten about, or perhaps his mind had blocked, how easily loud noises used to set him off in the early days of his recuperation, when his PTSD had been at its worst. His mother had given him the first floor bedroom and en-suite so he could navigate easily in the wheelchair and he wouldn't have to navigate the stairs while his femur healed once he'd graduated to crutches and then a cane. But every noise in the house had seemed amplified in his mind... until he found ways to cope.

Though part of him believed his mother liked the idea of descending the stairs when company came over... (something that happened very rarely during his recovery back then, she'd mother-henned him almost the whole time) so she could make an entrance.

Kate Beckett was looking at him with that very same expression on her face that Alexis had whenever she had stood at his open bedroom door, having found her way down the stairs in the middle of the night after a nightmare had brought her from her bedroom to his, needing to see Daddy with her own eyes.

* * *

More than once after he and Alexis had moved to New York from California, he had found Alexis in tears at his bedroom door in the middle of the night wanting to crawl in bed with him. He knew why even if she no longer did. She'd witnessed him getting grazed by a bullet during that damned bank robbery.

She must have stood on a desk or a chair to look outside... looking for him, he was sure. He'd looked up into the day care center's window after returning fire to see the expression of horror on her little face before the attendant pulled her away from the window. Alexis never once spoke of it and he could never bring himself to push her.

The daycare center's child psychologist had _insisted _that she didn't remember it - that she'd blocked it out, (and he believed her) but she'd had nightmares periodically for years, long after they could possibly be attributed to night-terrors.

Especially on those nights a case would keep him out late and he couldn't there to sweep her room for monsters before her bedtime. Even now, at _seventeen, _she occasionally still asked him - though she tried to pass if off as making him feel better about her growing up.

He did it too, every single time she asked, without judgment and without hesitation. Methodically performed the full sweep of her bedroom just like the Marines had taught him to clear a room in an urban warfare environment. If it was what she needed to feel safe and secure at night, he would do it until the day he died.

He had thrown himself headlong into his own emotional recovery after that so he could be there for his little girl. She had needed him to get better, so he made himself _be _better, because he was all she had. He had snapped to and soldiered on because Alexis needed him to. Slowly but surely though, he began to get better as well... began to see in the mirror the man his daughter saw...the one Kyra had seen in him over twenty years ago. The man he thought had died with her that day in a hospital tent Iraq.

He could no more abandon Kate to her fear now than he could his daughter back then and still call himself a man. Not if he wanted to earn the second chance the universe had given him when that tiny person had been placed in his arms in a pink blanket. The Corps had taught him to never leave anyone behind. He had survived Iraq because of that code of honor and now it was _his _turn to pay it forward.

Semper Fi.

"Come on, Kate, " Rick said finally, "as secure as this place might be, it isn't what you need. Hiding here isn't the answer."

* * *

**Rodgers Loft**

Kate hadn't been sure what to expect when Lt. Castle told her to grab her coat and put on her shoes. But when she stepped out of his car and looked up at the impressive building on Broome Street she was confused. She didn't understand how he could live here of all places.

"How can you afford to live here on a cop's salary?" she asked, "Even a lieutenant's pay grade isn't this good."

She began to worry. Nothing Jordan had dug up showed he was dirty.

"I can't," Castle replied, "but my mother can."

"Your mother?" She asked, confused.

"Come now, Kate, I'm sure you've at least _heard_ of Martha Rodgers," he said.

"Oh," Kate replied. She had really only skimmed that part of his file. Jordan was a profiler by trade and as such tended to gather every shred of information she could find. It was necessary in her profession she supposed. She had stuck to more recent information, but to be honest it made her feel better that his family was wealthy than the alternative.

"Eduardo, this is Miss Beckett." Rick announced, "Unless she is with someone you don't recognize, you are to let her up to my floor immediately."

Eduardo nodded. Though it was generally accepted that he worked for the building manager and it was his mother's name on the lease, the doorman knew that she had long ago ceded security arrangements to her son the cop. All of the building's people knew who he and Alexis were. They'd watched her grow up and she'd played with their knew whom Eduardo actually worked for and if Richard Webb had _anything_ to say about it, it would stay that way.

There was a reason the con man Martha Rodgers had been engaged to had never come back. Little did anyone know that his new residence was six feet below the foundation of a parking garage in New Jersey with a double tap to the head. Eduardo had helped Webb re-pour the fresh concrete himself.

He rarely got this hands-on with a covert protection detail, (sanctions were not exactly in his wheelhouse either) nor would he exactly characterize his relationship with Richard Webb, or Jackson Hunt, or whatever alias he was using this week as friendly, but for once in his career (which he knew was winding down, this sort of thing was a young man's game really) he was guarding people who were genuinely _worth _giving a damn about. It made him want to go the extra mile. Even if he got a little dirty in the process.

He subconsciously added the nervous looking woman with the chestnut hair and haunted green eyes to a list in his head of people under his responsibility, at least until somebody higher up the food chain ordered otherwise.

* * *

Alexis was surprised when her father walked in the door with none other than Katherine Beckett in tow. She was delighted to see her favorite author again, but surprised at her sudden appearance. Her grandmother stood just inside the doorway, Rick rarely brought women home anymore, until Alexis poked her gently in the side with an elbow.

"Gram...manners!" She stage whispered, and Martha Rodgers personality instantly brightened from hesitant apprehension to full stage mother mode. Hurricane Martha was in full evidence.

"Welcome to our humble home, Katherine Beckett! I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, you are all Alexis has been able to talk about since she and Richard came home from their Labor Day trip."

Before Kate could frame a proper response or put her own public persona in place, Martha opened the door wide, took her by both hands and lead her inside, Castle smiled in spite of himself. His mother may be an acquired taste, but she certainly knew how to make somebody feel welcome. In spite of how awkward this must be for both of them.

"Please..." Kate stammered, "call me Kate."

"Nonsense dear one," Martha replied, "you look more like a _Katherine _to me, did I mention that I worked with Katherine Hepburn once?"

Martha's voice trailed off as she gave Kate the grand tour of the loft and Alexis looked up at her father.

"You sure she can handle this much of Grams all at once?" she asked.

"Kate needs the distraction, she was wallowing in her demons and they were dragging her under. If anyone remembers what that's like, it's your grandmother. I wasn't much better once upon a time."

"Are you okay dad?" Alexis asked, her eyes watering at the notion that her father had ever been that wounded.

"I will be, Pumpkin," he whispered, drawing her into a hug and kissing the top of her head.

He would let Kate have tonight and tomorrow to find her equilibrium and then they would have a conversation about what she was hiding from him. He hadn't wanted to do that in front of Ryan the other day. The man was just starting to see her as more than the woman his partner hated, and Esposito was just starting to get his shit together where she was concerned. But he'd found a package on his desk at the precinct that morning with photos of Alexis at school and on her date with Ashley.

The time for Kate keeping her cards close to the vest was over. Whomever she was afraid of had made a not so subtle threat to his family. Whomever thought that was a good tactic to take with him had underestimated him badly.

_They have sown the wind, and now they were going to reap the whirlwind._

Now it was _his_ fight every bit as much as hers.

* * *

_****Author's Note** Moving this story toward 25K I'll try to post right up to the deadline if I can. To the **__**"**__**guest**__**" **__**reviewer who is concerned about some of my earlier unfinished works, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about or abandoned them, or at least not for long. I have every intention of getting back into them. Sometimes when I hit a wall I take the path of least resistance and write the story that comes to me til I can write the story I left off on. The creative process does not always work in a straight line.**_


	9. Rebuilding Kate Beckett

**Chapter Nine  
Rebuilding Kate Beckett**

* * *

"_Because I knew it wouldn't stop her. It was there in her eyes, man. and I thought "With this kid's tenacity and some training, she'd make a hell of a Homicide."_

Roy Montgomery

* * *

_Previously__  
_

_"Are you okay dad?" Alexis asked, her eyes watering at the notion that her father had ever been that wounded._

_"I will be, Pumpkin," he whispered, drawing her into a hug and kissing the top of her head._

_He would let Kate have tonight and tomorrow to find her equilibrium and then they would have a conversation about what she was hiding from him. He hadn't wanted to do that in front of Ryan the other day. The man was just starting to see her as more than the woman his partner hated, and Esposito was just starting to get his shit together where she was concerned. But he'd found a package on his desk at the precinct that morning with photos of Alexis at school and on her date with Ashley._

_The time for Kate keeping her cards close to the vest was over. Whomever she was afraid of had made a not so subtle threat to his family. Whomever thought that was a good tactic to take with him had underestimated him badly._

_They have sown the wind, and now they were going to reap the whirlwind._

_Now it was his fight every bit as much as hers._

* * *

**Six Weeks Later**

Kate Beckett was running though Central Park with Richard Castle close at her heels. She wasn't yet back up to her previous gait, but Rick had pushed her at a steady rate since that day he had laid down the gauntlet and showed her the photos he had been sent of Alexis. She remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.

"_Kate, if we are really going to do this, then you need to tell me what you've been hiding."_

"_I haven't been hiding anything, Castle, you know what I know."_

"_Bullshit, Kate, I could see it on your face as plain as day in the interrogation room. You were holding something back, even Ryan could see it._

"_I'm not hiding anything, dammit. Stop asking!" she'd shouted._

"_Yes the hell you are!" Castle had shouted back, "it's as plain as day that you are, and I need to know what it is. I need to know why somebody would send me these! Take a goddamn good look! This isn't about just you anymore! If you don't tell me everything, then I can't protect her!"_

_Rick had slapped a series of photos onto his desk in front of her and stalked from the room to cool off. She looked at each photo, her eyes wide in horror. She had put Richard Castle's family into their sights, just like she'd done to Montgomery and her father._

_When he'd walked back into the room and asked her again, she told him. Everything. If he and his family were in danger, he had a right to know._

"_What do we do now?" she asked quietly when she had told him everything she knew, told him about the murder board in her kitchen window with all the facts she had been able to come up with. _

"_First, we get you into good enough shape to pull your weight."_

Castle was running at her heels not giving her any slack. In the last six weeks they had gone from one circuit of the park to three... then four as he paced her only a few steps behind, his voice calling out a cadence to set the pace as he urged her forward.

"_Mission Top Secret, destination unknown, __  
__We don't know if we're ever coming home. __  
__Stand up buckle up shuffle to the door, __  
__Jump right out and shout _"Marine Corps!"_  
_

_If my chute don't open wide, __  
__I've got a reserve by my side. __  
__If that one should fail me too, __  
__Look out ground I'm coming through. __  
_

_If I die in a combat zone, __  
__Box me up and ship me home. __  
__Pin my medals upon my chest. __  
__Tell my momma I've done my best." _

Her voice had been shaky at first in the call and response, but had grown stronger. She wasn't a marine, but she doubted that was the true point behind his use of calling the cadence. It was about confidence and teamwork, and breathing. Setting a pace for an endurance run. She knew now as well as he did that their deaths would serve nothing. Their lives however were now inextricably linked.

Every morning he was at her apartment at exactly 5:00 AM to drag her out of bed. After the morning run, they did hand to hand training and sparring until eight when he had to leave for the precinct. Early on, she had spent many an afternoon in her bathtub soaking the ache out of every muscle in her body, but she soon welcomed it as the sign she was accomplishing something.

Unlike most of the gyms she'd been to after leaving the force, however he didn't go easy on her when she made a mistake. He pounced and she ended up flat on her back on the mat, a plastic knife at her throat with a snarled, _"You're dead!"_ Then he pulled her up and they went at it again and again and again until she got it right.

Only then would he allow the take-down.

He made her fight for and earn _every_ victory, but did not allow her to wallow in _any_ defeat, either. He would haul her back onto her feet without any further comment and simply say _"Again," _and they would be right back at it.

Soon enough she was getting back into the fighting form she had been in on the force and it showed. She felt good...like her old self again. Her therapist, Dr. Carter Burke even remarked at her more healthy physique, the color in her cheeks and the more graceful way she carried herself. She'd begun doing yoga for flexibility after Castle left and she was even wearing her four-inch power heels again.

Richard Alexander Castle was slowly turning her back into the weapon she had once been.

It felt good.

* * *

Weapons training had been harder.

The first time they had walked out onto the target range about two weeks in, the sound of gunshots had her curled up under a table, her body shaking so badly she could barely move. Castle was gentle with her, put out his hand and when she took it he lead her out of there without a hint of judgment or reproach.

The following day he took her someplace a little less active.

A place owned by a friend of his from the Corps who allowed him to use the range after hours, provided he brought his own targets and ammo.

"This is a shooting range operated by somebody I know and trust. You're perfectly safe here." he told her when they first walked into the place, handing her the protective gear to put on.

Rick took out a 9mm semi-automatic from a box , checked the sights and handed it to her, watched her pull back the slide and "safe" the weapon (noting favorably that she hadn't forgotten her basic range safety).

"Feels okay," Kate said. "Little light, though."

"This'll make it heavier." Castle replied as he handed over a loaded magazine. "That's five rounds, Kate, nine millimeter. Insert the magazine into the weapon, but do _not_ chamber a round until I tell you."

Kate nodded and did as she was instructed, closing the slide before sliding the magazine into the Sig Sauer and slapping it home.

"Step into the lane, Kate. Relax. It's a nice day in the park, okay? "

Castle walked over to the switch panel and extinguished most of the lights in the room.

"Kate, keep the weapon pointed downrange and at the floor. Chamber your first round... relax, you've got this."

Kate pulled the slide back, then let it snap forward. She told herself to relax and steadied her breathing as she heard sound of a cigarette lighter, but thought nothing of it. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a string of firecrackers began exploding behind her feet.

She started to turn to confront him when Castle screamed: "There's your target! Light him up!"

A light snapped on to illuminate a silhouette target fifty feet away. One small part of her mind knew this was a test— but her body didn't care, deep down the training she'd received at the academy and from Royce kicked in. Her body's movement to the Weaver stance was purely instinctive as she brought the pistol up and it seemed to aim itself at the paper target. She loosed all five rounds in just under three seconds. The noise was still echoing when her trembling hands dropped the automatic onto the table.

"Jesus Christ, Castle!" she hissed, her entire body shaking.

"Okay, let's get a look at the target." Castle punched a button, and the electric motor turned the pulley bringing the target back to them. Kate seemed disappointed in her marksmanship, obviously she used to be much better. _'Something to work on, a goal for her to aspire to,' _ Rick thought to himself.

"Not bad," Castle stated. "you put four rounds on target out of five. Two of them in the black, one nearly in the X ring. Your target's on the ground, Kate, and he's not getting back up anytime soon."

From the glare she was leveling at him, he could see that she seemed to be a little upset about how he had set her up to assess her skill, but he figured she'd get over it. He had to know what he had to work with and how high to set the bar.

He'd seen far too many cops, some of them senior detectives, who not only rarely fired their weapon outside the range for their quals, but could barely hit the broad side of a barn. His first order of business at the precinct had been to assess the marksmanship of every officer and detective in his squad, after which he'd set a higher bar.

Not surprisingly, Javier Esposito was one of his best shooters, almost as good as him. Everything he expected from the former Army Ranger. Ryan was almost as good, and so was Velasquez, but several of his detectives could barely hit the black much less the X ring. He intended to change that. When _his _cops used their weapons, he wanted them to hit what they shot at. With the first three rounds, if possible.

Kate was doing better than most. The fact that she expected more of herself would work in her favor as he eased her back into regular weapons training. He would assess her personal weapons later. When he was done, she would be able to take apart her two pistols and put them back together again in the dark.

Then and only then would they even begin to talk about the case. If there was one thing in her life where she needed to learn discipline, it was this. He had his own blind spots too, but he could set then aside when he had to in order to get the job done. Kate Beckett would learn this discipline too.

The people they were facing were organized and neither of them had any real intel on them other than what little her captain had told her before he died in a blaze of glory. Kate needed to be made to understand the scope of what she was facing and that far too much was hanging in the balance for her to lose focus and go rogue.

The call from a man named Smith had provided little actual intel, only that a deal was in place that would keep Kate alive provided she stay away from the case. She'd almost grabbed the phone at that point but he'd silenced her with a glare.

After he'd hung up on the man, he'd explained it to her.

Montgomery had bought her time with his life. Time she needed to get herself back together and wasting that time cheapened what the man had died for. He didn't pull his punches, the tears she'd shed had attested to that, and he'd hated making her cry, but she got his point.

This wasn't giving up, it was a tactical withdrawal under the banner of a truce. One Castle knew would only be temporary. As soon as this _"dragon" _located this _Mr. Smith, _that truce would be gone and Kate would be back in the cross-hairs. Not to mention the people that they both loved most.

When that time arrived, they would need to be ready for the hired guns that would come for them.

* * *

_****Author's note** I had this written before everything went to hell. Many thanks to my Beta Cofkett for convincing me to post it. Not sure when I will update again, but hopefully soon. I put in far too much work all summer to let things go for too long. Not to mention the work that Cofkett and Angie have put in on my behalf. **_

_**To the nine rings of hell with word count. My writing was never about that and I was a fool to try to change that to suit anybody else. I have always advised others to let the story drive them to let word count worry about itself and it's time I took my own advice. **_

_**Now I do this MY way and to hell with what anyone thinks.**_

_**For the record, I borrowed the gun range scene from Tom Clancy's "Patriot Games" one my two favorite books of his. You should seriously give it a read.**_

_**Hopefully when the dust clears and the hard feelings recede Berkie and Lou will accept the advice I offered and amend the ficathon rules page to avoid future confusion when the winter hiatus one rolls around. They do work hard to do this every year. Though I highly doubt I will participate again.**_


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